The Art of Girls, Testosterone, and Growing Up
by quorra laraex
Summary: And this was high school: home of hormones, detention, best friends, and secret rendezvous. — Arnold/Helga; CH2UP! "We have our next class together, right? We have-" ... "Chemistry." ... "We sure do."
1. Health Class

**a/n:** Hey! so i recently just got hit with arnold/helga feels. this chapter basically just introduces the basics of this fic.

* * *

**The Art of Girls, Testosterone, and Growing Up**

i. Health Class

—

Fourth period; it's the only class that actually has the whole gang, at least. Well, except Sid.

He cuts this lesson almost every day for who-knows-what, and Arnold's kind of intimidated to question it. He's grateful—_awfully_ grateful—to know that Gerald has all the answers. His friend tells him what became of everyone, because by the time he walked into his new school, he hadn't had a clue about anything or anyone—whether it had been puberty that struck all these long-gone innocent children he's grown up with, or some kind of meteor shower had destroyed these prepubescent peers with a gas-like substance altering their minds.

It was as if he stepped (dramatically, might he add) into a different universe.

Or hey, maybe it was just growing up.

.

.

Ever since the blonde had come back home from San Lorenzo with his friends _and_ his parents, things had started taking a large turn. Of course, he's dreamed all his life of being with his parents, to play ball with his dad, and to listen to his mother singing as she waltzes down the stairs—but he hadn't realized his whole life was going to take a new route, almost like another journey: _change_. He was _ten_! He expected bright and cheery smiles and normal hangouts and he and his Gramps and Grandma huddled with his parents on the couch in front of the television. But, no.

He doesn't like remembering it. But, to put it bluntly, his parents wanted something grand, moving to a new house and of course, taking their child with them. Arnold transferred to a new grade school, afterwards going to a junior high where his friends weren't going to, and starting his first year of high school with new people as well. It was different, _too_ different—to the point where he constantly begged his parents to allow him to go back to the old town, and they ultimately acquiesced, arranging plans with his grandma.

Arnold lives with the old folks once again, sparing the weekends and vacations with his parents, which he can deal with. He loves them, he'd spare his life for them, but it wasn't the life he wanted.

So he's back, in his old blue tinted room and crooked anchored ceiling with all the petty little knick knacks along his shelves and his same old, cold to the brim desk. He breathed in the natural aroma of the room, missing the scent terribly and plunges himself back onto his bed with one thought in his mind.

_I'm home_.

.

.

He walks down the halls with his best friend, trying to ignore how different everyone looks since he's last seen them. However, it's inevitable, with the way Rhonda flips her long raven tresses and how he catches Harold looking at her so _temptingly_ behind the doorway is enough to make the blonde almost gag. Gerald catches his drift and laughs, adjusting his crimson hoodie as they make their way to their lockers.

"I know, it's pretty horrific, man. It's _janky_," his best friend replies with a sigh. "I even heard that they were having this kind of rendezvous every now and then in the supply closet."

"_No_," Arnold meekly states with wide eyes.

"Yup," he clarifies. He proceeds to flash Phoebe and a group of girls a pearly smile, one that says '_well, hello ladies_', and Arnold rolls his eyes with a smile. He somehow always knew Gerald would be quite the catch.

.

.

They make their way toward their class, which was taught by the too-encouraging nurse—and the topic? Sex education.

Arnold sits in front of the class, as if things weren't awkward enough, greeted by faces that had actually scanned his whole exterior before recognizing the usual football head. Rhonda looks at him with a genuine smile and half lidded eyes and he returns it, and he looks around the room before the bell rings, remembering basically everyone in this period.

And then there's Helga, and something in his chest starts to tighten, and he knows it isn't because of the femininity that had grown on her features. She meets his eyes with a glare shooting something intoxicated, angry even? Cold—_definitely_ cold—same ol' Helga.

(but, _but_)

The memories in the jungle and the memories on the rooftop and the memories of every time their lips had touched back when—

"Please introduce yourself to the class," the nurse repeats, interrupting his focus and prodding the blonde teen, who was lost in thought and unaware the bell had rung.

He blinks a couple of times before fiddling with the sleeves of his plaid flannel. "I'm Arnold."

"Hey, Arnold!" the whole class chimes, _except_ for that one distinct familiar voice he had been looking for, specifically coming from a blonde girl with a red ribbon that tied her hair up.

He feels the attention drawn onto him, as he makes his way to the only available seat—dead center, front, plopped right between Gerald and Rhonda, and he can almost feel Helga's penetrating stare at the back of his head where she sits, diagonally from him. It's quiet now, a bit too quiet for him, and Brainy's damned wheezing can be heard, and it isn't a very pleasant song to listen to.

It gets even worse when their teacher pulls out a pile of condoms and a banana, and the only thing that's said is a silly little "Gee, willikers!" from Stinky, somewhere behind him. His face heats up, but he's sure he's not the only one.

High school was surely going to be an interesting ride.

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**a/n:** this is based off the art of limey404 on deviantart. you should check out her work! the way the gang is drawn is so legit and beaut. this fic is either going to be a series of drabbles in high school all revolving arnold, and of course arnold/helga; or it's going to be a complete plot and chaptered kind of thing, but i do prefer the collection of drabbles and prompts instead. i'm not sure yet.

you guys should know about san lorenzo and his parents and the jungle! but if you don't, it's the last movie of hey arnold where he finds his parents and basically tells helga he loves her and they kiss (again!) both wanting it this time :) but it's not going to be animated because of difficulties and disagreements and yea i'm still not over it.

anyways, beware! for your childhood might be ruined because of this fic. they're in high school, man. (but!) i'm not writing smut! it's not going to be that bad. hahaha. please, please, please tell me what you think! but flaming is definitely not necessary. review?


	2. Females

**The Art of Girls, Testosterone, and Growing Up**

ii. Females

—

She hasn't spoken to him. Not much, really. There's no teasing, no little smirks, no glares or smiles or even _looks_, and he's beginning to think she lost her memory. He wants to ask Gerald, but even he knows he's asked Gerald enough about everyone or rather, everything.

He'll even go to the extreme, the idea of asking Phoebe, whom fortunately is always with the usually harsh, rough-edged blonde—but, he can't do that either. Things are different now that they're older, girls actually always talk, or so, that's what he's learned or observed, at least.

(he blames Rhonda and her gossiping and superiority with her rich clothes and fresh do and big mouth)

So there's no telling whether Phoebe would mention anything to Helga, but he decides there's a high chance, and that idea is a complete bust.

Arnold shakes it off, pretends it doesn't bother him by giving it no thought. If she'll ignore him, he'll ignore her. It's only the way it's supposed to be, isn't it? It never really played fair, and Helga _was_ always the stuck-up little bitch, stubborn as a mule.

Damned girls.

He's preoccupying himself with the beats and rhythms in the place of music on the set on his ears when he realizes a girl with auburn hair and a friendly smile had greeted him. Lila.

"Hi, Arnold," her voice is soft and polite, like always.

"Lila, what's up?" he says, rearranging his binders into the shelf of his blue locker after hurryingly moving his headphones to his shoulders, secured around his neck. She plays with the tip of her braided hair, neatly compiled and resting on her right shoulder, and when he takes a glimpse of it, he has the sudden urge to touch it, but he resists.

"So, you're back!"

"Good to be back," he smiles, shutting the door close and locking the metal.

"How are your parents?"

"They're doing great," he responds, and he can't take his eyes off hers.

She smiles this shy kind of smile and something flutters in his ribcage.

He fidgets a bit before continuing, "We have our next class together, right? We have…"

"Chemistry," the redhead finishes, and his eyes widen a tad.

"…We sure do."

_Who_ was Helga anyway?

Somewhat a couple lockers and two classroom doors behind him, Arnold doesn't notice a blonde girl's glare and trembling fingers ripping apart her composition book. _Fucking Lila_, she thinks with a scowl. _She would_. She was purposely dangling Arnold—_her_ Arnold—right in front of her! How dare she! There is only one possible thing left to do, and _that_ is sabotage.

The Pataki girl trails the other direction, the shorter distance toward the chemistry labs, with a couple of schemes implanted in her mind. The first plan is the original trip. While seeing Arnold and the devil child walking toward their class, she'll immediately trip the girl with her leg, and run off, somewhere particularly behind a desk. After it's done, she catches the view from underneath the table to watch what occurs, whether she skids her knee or better, her pretty little face with her stupid long eyelashes and her stupid, perfect smile (and Helga wishes her teeth break whilst falling), and her stupid freckles and—She falls. Helga's watching with excitement in her eyes, until she notices Arnold lend her a hand, and he's probably asking what she tripped on because her head shakes and she's got this confused glint in her eyes.

Lila grabs his hand and Helga notices the squeeze of touch. Her insides drop in failure.

Plan B. Helga notices she's running out of ideas and she'll stick to basically anything as she moves forth under a dim lab table, and _of course_, of course the duo would be partners. She rolls her eyes, running a hand through her blonde hair in tired desperation. She picks a couple of different coloured tubes and mixes them. She didn't know what they were, nor did she care. She was failing science, anyways. A little bit of blue, a bit of green, and a little bit of purple here and there, and viola, she felt satisfied with her potion-looking substance as she sneakily sets it atop the lab table without their notice. They're too busy noticing _each other_, Helga thinks with a gag.

A couple of seconds later, she hears something crack or burst somewhere on top of her, and the school's smoke alarm goes off, with a screaming Lila and a cautionary Arnold.

"Please walk toward the exit, class," some teacher weakly replies heard somewhere under all the yelling and scrambling.

Helga stays put. She can't have anyone see her, so she waits until about everyone's left. She holds her breath, until someone trips in front of her, landing on the ground.

"Helga? What the hell are you doin'?" Gerald demands before he gets up and brushes himself off.

"Criminy! Can't a girl get out of class without being interrogated?" She blurts, panicking as she crawls out and runs toward the door, quickly getting away from him and his suspicions.

And when Gerald has the time to mention to Arnold that the sneaky blonde was under his lab table earlier before the chemical reaction gone wrong, Helga is nowhere to be found—and Arnold decides he never will understand the mind of a girl's.

He tries searching for her, even going to the attendance office to ask for her schedule, but to no avail. Arnold even asks Phoebe, but she says she has no clue where her best friend ran off to.

Later he sees her coming out of the principal's office with a detention slip in her hand. He'd recognize the pink slip anywhere; Sid had over a dozen of them. It was probably for the smoke alarm, he figures walking towards her. He notes her crude expression. Grouchy, as usual.

"Hey, Helga," it's the first time he's actually directly talked to her in five years. A knot forms in his stomach, and he wonders if she'll just brush him off and ignore him, like she's been doing the past few days.

But she manages a simple three words before charging off with her books and the slip in her hands, and her voice doesn't quite match her older, girlish appearance. "Fuck off, Football Head."

The fifteen year old girl doesn't see the hint of a smile on his face.

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**a/n:** Hey guys! I haven't updated in about a week, sorry, school is driving me crazy haha. But don't worry I'm still working on this! I've decided with the drabbl-y idea with different prompts in this year, later on-moving to junior and senior year, but right now i'm sticking with a few moments since arnold has come back. so sophomore. if you have any questions, feel free to ask.

review please, i'll love you if you do! xo


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